


Light, Fire, and Shadow

by Deathangelgw



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dark, Heavy Angst, Insanity, M/M, Multi, Sappy, Suicide, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathangelgw/pseuds/Deathangelgw
Summary: In the battle against Morgoth, alliances are necessary. Legolas is trying to protect his people, but he finds his heart's desire in his search.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fadesintothewest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fadesintothewest/gifts).



Title: Light, Fire, and Shadow.

Author: Deathangelgw

Author email: [deathangelgw@gmail.com](mailto:deathangelgw@gmail.com)

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine! They belong to the Tolkien estate! That being said, I'm still gonna play with them, but you don't have to pay for that ;)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: AU, hinted slash, dark, angst, smut, hints of mental instability, sap, character death/suicide.

Pairings: Fingon/Legolas/Maedhros, hinted Legolas/Glorfindel

Summary: Chance meetings bring out a passion that could outlast the dangers of the time.

Word count: 4931 words

A/N: This is for the Slashy Valentine of 2017! Thanks to Fadesintothewest for the prompt! Hope you like it! And muchos thanks to MA-chan for the awesome beta! Any mistakes remaining are mine...MINE I TELL YOU! MY PRECIOUS! Ahem ok...enjoy and please review!

A/N2: I am majorly messing with the canon of when Oropher, Thranduil, and thusly Legolas were born. Go with it folks ;)

A/N3: this might turn into a longer fic if I decide to flesh it out...not sure. ;)

 

'thoughts'

{Late Summer, First Age, year 455}

 

The soft sounds of hooves clopping on worn stone echoed through the mountain pass as Legolas rode alongside his party while they headed for the Hill of Himring. He and his people had heard that Maedhros was stationed there with others, guarding the area that was weakest against the accursed soldiers of Morgoth, so he had been sent ahead by his grand sire, Oropher, to seek an audience for a possible alliance. He wasn't sure if the Sons of Fëanor would hear him out, but Legolas was always hopeful, even in these dark times. He had met briefly with Fingon, son of Fingolfin, who had directed him towards Maedhros' great fortress in the East. He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling it was because Barad Eithel was already full with both soldiers and other refugees.

 

But Fingon had been open to an alliance and had secretly met with Legolas, much to his delight, for he had come to be drawn to the dark haired Elf. They had stayed several weeks there, resting since they had been ambushed on their journey by Orcs. The loss of half of his troop had been hard for him. He had mourned, but Fingon had comforted him, both in compassion and advice. He felt that they had become rather close in that small amount of time and the remembered kiss before they had parted ways still warmed him in the nights when he would be looking up at Elbereth’s cloak of stars.

 

“M’lord...we are approaching the pass.”

 

Looking over, Legolas smiled and nodded at the scout that had just returned from his scouting ahead. “Thank you, Ledhlin,” he said quietly and grinned as his friend saluted him before returning to the point. Focusing forward, Legolas saw the tower rising from the fortress on Himring, their destination. “Look alive! We are almost there!” he called out and got a ragged cheer from his exhausted troop. He felt sympathy for their fatigue, but he was also grateful that they had had no more attacks by the Orcs.

 

“M’lord! Riders from the fortress are approaching!” a voice called out from near the front and Legolas lightly kneed his steed into a trot to get to the front.

 

Once there, he smiled in relief when he saw his friend whom he’d sent ahead to announce their arrival along with a party of riders, one of whom had flaming red hair that whipped in the wind as they trotted out to meet them from the fortress. ‘That must be Maedhros. A flame indeed, much like his father if I remember Ada’s stories,’ Legolas thought to himself as he smiled and sped their own group up to meet the approaching greeters.

 

When they were finally together, Legolas moved his steed through the milling riders until he came to the side of the red haired rider. “Mae govannon. I am Legolas Thranduilion. Thank you for meeting us,” he said in greeting as he clasped arms with the older Elf. (Well met)

 

“Suilad. I am Maedhros Fëanorion, lord of Himring. I welcome you and your people to my home. I hope that what your scout told me will come to fruition in an alliance against Morgoth and his evil ilk,” Maedhros returned the greeting as he smiled, his left hand gripping Legolas’ arm firmly as he conveyed his sincerity. (Greetings)

 

Legolas smiled softly as he gazed into those deep green eyes and nodded. “My hope as well,” he replied softly and Maedhros smiled back just as softly.

 

“Come then! A feast awaits as well as warm baths and comfortable beds! I am sure you are all tired from your journey,” Maedhros declared and cheers greeted his statement along with some laughter before they all headed towards the fortress. Legolas rode alongside Maedhros as they made small talk, discussing what the alliance could possibly bring about for both parties.

 

Once in the fortress, they were met by stable hands, who took the horses to the stables while the servants of the fortress led the guests to their rooms. Legolas followed Maedhros into the elder Elf’s private library and sat down before a goblet of wine was placed before him. He took an appreciative sip and smiled.

 

“From Aman before we left. I like to bring it out for special occasions,” Maedhros stated as he sat across from Legolas with his own goblet and the decanter of wine next to them. He twirled his goblet, watching the liquid swish in the crystal depths. “I find that it reminds me of the time there with bittersweet memories and it makes me work harder to reverse the evil that was brought into this realm,” he added thoughtfully before taking a sip of his own wine.

 

“Aman sounds like a dream when I listen to my iauradar,” Legolas said with a small sigh as he stretched a bit, his backside appreciative of the seat that wasn’t a saddle. (grandfather)

 

“Sometimes it feels that way. But, looking to the past does not always bear results that are for the best,” Maedhros agreed sadly and his gaze was a bit morose and lost in the past.

 

“Your words remind me of Fingon. He was the same on the past, especially of ones lost and needing to be found again,” Legolas commented as he smiled warmly.

 

“Fingon said this, eh?” Maedhros asked and smiled wider. “He would,” he added as he rolled his eyes before sitting back and gulping down his wine. “So, Legolas Thranduilion, let us discuss your reason for being here,” he suggested as he grinned roguishly at Legolas, sending a sudden burst of heat through Legolas.

 

‘He is just like Fingon. One minute morose, the next ready to seduce, yet always a leader,’ Legolas thought wistfully before he set to explaining his reason for being there.

 

Hours later, after dinner had been brought to them while they talked and negotiated, Legolas stood and stretched, feeling very satisfied with their agreement. He grunted as he tilted a bit, suddenly rather woozy and he glanced over at the three decanters of wine that they had both consumed. “It would seem that Aman’s fruits have a stronger effect on me than I thought,” he murmured and looked over as Maedhros stood, chuckling.

 

“You are still rather young, Legolas. Here, I will escort you to your rooms so you might sleep it off and resume our discussions later,” Maedhros said as he took Legolas’ arm and placed it over his own shoulders, allowing the younger Elf to lean against him.

 

“I thank you,” Legolas said as they headed for the rooms that would be his during their stay. But as they went along, he took in the warmth of the elder Elf and breathed deeply of the rustic scent of the older Ellon. He was hyper aware of Maedhros’ shoulders under his arm, the strong arm supporting him around his waist, and the powerful body that moved sinuously next to his own. ‘So much like Fingon...they both burn so brightly,’ he thought hungrily before shaking his head. ‘Ah you are too drunk to think clearly, idiot. Their flames burn brighter for each other,’ he told himself harshly as they arrived finally at his rooms. He was led over to his bed, where he was sat down and summarily stripped down to just his leggings. Sighing, he managed to crawl under his blankets and curled up, remembering nothing more as he passed out.

 

*~~**~~*

 

The next few weeks were spent hammering out the agreement between Legolas’ people and Maedhros and his brothers, who were also staying in and around Himring. They began building in and around the forest that surrounded the Hill of Himring to the south east, closer to the mountains. And, at the celebration of the new year, their treaty was signed between the Silvans of Oropher’s people and the Fëanorions.

 

But the celebrations didn't last as word got to them that great flames had suddenly been unleashed from Angband onto Ard-galen, the plains that were nearest Barad Eithel. No sooner had that word spread than another messenger had arrived from Dorthonion pleading for aid as the report declared troops unnumbered and Glaurung descending upon them. Legolas ran to Maedhros' chambers and stopped. "What are your orders, meldiren?" (my dear friend) he asked as he panted, his heart pounding with the need to defend their people.

 

"My brothers leave to help Dorthonion, but we must stay here. I received word that more troops are coming for our fortress. Your people must muster back here or into the caves, but we must stay strong!" Maedhros declared and Legolas nodded.

 

Giving in to impulse, Legolas went over and kissed Maedhros passionately, thrilling as the hesitation turned quickly into reciprocation. They held each other tightly, their mouths sealed before gently parting. Legolas gazed into the blazing emerald eyes, seeing the determination and passion there. He smiled grimly and nodded. "Fall not on this field, Maedhros. I will see you dancing on our enemies' carcasses," he stated darkly and Maedhros grinned ferally.

 

"Dance we shall and then my bed you shall not leave until we have slaked our thirst for each other," Maedhros agreed huskily and Legolas licked his lips in anticipation before they swiftly left the room to join the other troops who were assembling.

 

To battle they went, a constant battle that had those who survived each clash living as shadows. The dust from what was once Ard-galen was thick with ash, blood, and the wails and screeches of war. But Himring stood safely and they managed to route the vermin of Morgoth from Dorthonion, but the Siege that had held for four centuries was broken as the Sons of Fëanor lost their battles and their fortresses were sacked.

 

But the worst came when, as they finally rallied behind Fingolfin in his rage filled collision with the forces of Angband on the ruins of Anfauglith, which were once Ard-galen, the two year battle came to an end, but at a cost. Legolas watched in hope as Fingolfin faced Morgoth in the midst of the raging battle. It was fierce, filled with hatred and rage as they fought, and finally Fingolfin struck a mighty blow on Morgoth, sending the Ainu flying painfully to the blood soaked ground.

 

Hope, though, turned to horror as Fingolfin, while preparing a final blow to end Morgoth, was stabbed in the leg by the downed enemy. His scream of pain and rage was lost in the sounds of the battle, but Legolas ran towards the falling High King, as did Fingon. But they were too late as Morgoth rose up with what little strength he had left and stabbed Fingolfin through the chest, rending him in half practically with the force of his attack. A roar of grief rose up from the Noldorin and Silvan fighters as their High King fell lifeless to the ground, but rather than be broken, the fighting became fiercer.

 

Morgoth must have seen this for the call for retreat sounded from his followers as he was dragged to safety. Any Elf who was still standing, stared in disbelief as Morgoth and his troops retreated, leaving behind fallen bodies and smoldering ash in their wake. Some pursued the horde of evil, but most instead turned to where Fingon knelt on the ground, cradling his father's body to him as he stared up at the sky. Tears rolled down the soot stained face, cutting through the soot on his face as dirty streams through the land. He finally began to sing brokenly of his father, joined in by Legolas as the Silvan Elf placed his hand on the shaking shoulder of their new High King. Soon, all of those who could were singing the lamentation of Fingolfin's death.

 

Afterwards, Fingon stood slowly, carrying his father's body as he turned to those who stood with him. "We have lost much, but the battle never ends! Gather our dead. Tonight, we celebrate their bravery in our fight against evil!" he called out, his voice breaking only at the end as cheers rose up around him. Soon "Hail High King Fingon!" echoed over the plains as he walked back towards Barad Eithel.

 

Later that night, Legolas wandered down to the Mourning Hall, where he knew Fingon to be, standing vigil over his father's body as well as the fallen soldiers who had been brought in. The numbers were high, but thankfully they had won. Unfortunately, Legolas was the bearer of bad news as scouts had returned with the information that Minas Tirith had fallen to Morgoth and the hated enemy was now stationed there.

 

'Two years of bloodshed and that monster still lives, while countless others die of our people. I will find a way to end this,' Legolas vowed as he took a deep breath and went into the hall. He stopped though as he saw Fingon standing within Maedhros' arms, silently being comforted by the elder Elf. Legolas felt his heart warm as he saw the obvious love radiating between the two, a bond that had helped them both transcend so much to save the other. He turned to leave, not wanting to interrupt such a precious moment, but he stopped as a gentle word was spoken.

 

"Stay."

 

Looking over, he saw Maedhros and Fingon gazing at him, longing mirroring his own that flared within him and he turned to them. "I do not wish to intrude," he stated softly, not wishing to disturb the peace of the dead.

 

"You are never an intruder," Maedhros chided him fondly before they both opened their hold to him invitingly.

 

Swallowing hard as the longing became unbearable, Legolas moved swiftly into their grasp, clinching to them as they just held each other. He felt warm, safe...wanted. He never wanted to leave this completion he felt with these two Ellyn. Both he had fought alongside with, shared ideas with...felt passion towards that he knew was reciprocated. He had never dreamed that his journeys would bring him to the one, ones even, who would complete him.

 

*~~**~~*

 

{Spring, First Age, 467}

 

“So you are suggesting we all band together to defeat Morgoth once and for all? You have been taken by the land of insanity, Maedhros!” Orodreth, brother to the lost Finrod Felagund, sneered at Maedhros from where he sat at the round table in Himring’s gathering hall. “Have we not lost enough to Morgoth and his horde? Why do you ask this?” he demanded angrily and Maedhros couldn’t blame him. Only just a year ago, Finrod had been lost in the quest of Beren to retrieve one of the Silmarils from Morgoth’s Iron Crown. While Beren had been successful, Finrod had fallen in the pits of Tol-in-Gaurhoth at the deviations of Sauron, Morgoth’s conniving second. Orodreth, in his grief, had tossed out Maedhros’ brothers Curufin and Celegorm, who had despicably taken over Nargothrond after Finrod’s valiant demise, and had assumed the throne there.

 

‘Yes, I can understand his rage and grief. He and Finrod were close,’ Maedhros thought sadly as he looked at the younger Elf, then over at Elu Thingol, who sat next to Oropher, Legolas, Thranduil, Celeborn, Galadriel, and Fingon, all leaders of Elf-kind with Fingon their High King. Maglor also had joined them, a quiet support, while the other Sons of Fëanor stayed out, not welcome after what they had done or attempted to do at Doriath. It amazed Maedhros that Thingol had even come.

 

“I ask this because the time has come that we truly rose up together to defeat Morgoth. We defend our own lands, but Morgoth just seeks out each individual kingdom and demolishes it. If we band together...if we fight as one race instead of so many different branches, surely we can defeat the darkness that holds these lands,” Maedhros answered finally, his voice filled with conviction. He looked at them with determination and leaned in. “The Edain and Naugrim are waiting on us to act. Let us act and rid ourselves of Morgoth!”

 

“You speak of such things, yet your family is known to be Kin slayers and would invade us as well,” Thingol commented gravely and Maedhros grimaced in acknowledgment of the true statement. Standing, Thingol gazed at Maedhros sadly. “If it had been another time and if blood had not been shed so between us, I would have said aye. I wish you luck, but do not count on Doriath’s aid,” he stated grimly before bowing to them all and leaving the hall.

 

“Elu speaks true. You and your brothers have betrayed us all more than once. Do not look for Nagothrond’s aid either,” Orodreth said with a sneer as he stood and, after nodding at the others, strode out.

 

Maedhros’ hands clenched tightly as he looked down, waiting for more rejections. It was with a heavy heart that he acknowledged what was said. Silently he cursed his father for forcing the oath on them. It had created so much bloodshed among their Kin and it was very much a wedge in any negotiations that might be had in an alliance. He looked up after a bit and caught each gaze that was watching him silently. "I will not deny their words," he said quietly and saw the regret in Maglor's gaze. "Because of our oath to our father, we of Fëanor have spilled much of our Kin’s blood," he continued grimly before he took a deep breath, steadying himself. "But we all have blood of some sort on our hands, Kin or otherwise. And Morgoth has the blood of all on his hands. He and his creatures must be wiped from Arda's face so that peace may reign again," he finished boldly, gazing at them with fierce determination. He saw the small smiles of approval on his two lovers' faces and felt his chest swell in deep love for them.

 

Celeborn hummed softly, a song they all knew encouraging those going into battle to fight with clean and clear purpose and strength. He glanced over at Galadriel and Amroth, both of whom were regarding him silently. Nodding, Amroth looked at Maedhros. "We agree with you. An alliance you have with us, gentle Maedhros. Do not betray our trust," Amroth stated deeply and Maedhros smiled in relief and gratitude.

 

"Or ours, though so far our alliance has been interesting," Oropher said and grinned roguishly at the red haired Elf. Legolas' eyes were shining with pride as Maedhros nodded in acceptance.

 

"You always have my support, Maedhros," Fingon said quietly, to no one's surprise Maedhros could see. While he had thought they had been discreet, perhaps not so much.

 

"I thank you. We begin our battles in one year. Let us hope we can defy Morgoth in his power," Maedhros declared firmly as he held out his hand. Each Elf there placed theirs on his and nodded in acquiesce before leaving the room, save for Fingon, Maglor, and Legolas. Maedhros breathed a sigh of relief as he stood. "I feared they would all leave," he admitted as Fingon stood as well and grasped his shoulder.

 

"Your heart is as pure as can be. You have our people's lives in mind. They saw this," Fingon replied as he smiled at Maedhros.

 

"Aye, brother. Better you and I did this than our younger brothers, for who evil seems to have tainted. I am proud of you. I will go now to gather up my forces and contact the Edain who are going to work with us," Maglor said as he patted his brother on the back in pride before leaving the room.

 

"Perhaps word of our alliance will spread to Turgon, wherever he may be," Legolas suggested impishly as he went over as well and wrapped an arm around both of their waists. He purred as Maedhros suddenly leaned in and suckled into life another love mark on the pale skin of his neck. "Aye Maedhros..." he gasped out as he was pulled up against Maedhros' strong body and was promptly sandwiched between them, a position he truly loved to be in often.

 

"You two are my strength. I am forever grateful," Maedhros growled and showed them how much they meant to him multiple times on the very table the Alliance had been birthed.

 

*~~**~~*

 

{Spring, First Age, year 472}

 

Legolas wandered after the retreating Elves as they went through the caverns of the Encircling Mountains, his heart and mind shattered from all that had happened. He stumbled and was steadied by a gentle hand and looked up into the compassionate blue gaze of the golden haired Elf before him. "Peace, friend...just a little further and then we can grieve and heal," was said gently by the stranger and Legolas felt a sob bubble up from the depths of his grief.

 

They had indeed fought against Morgoth and had been on the way to routing his evil permanently. The Union of Maedhros, as the Alliance had been called, had successfully forced the forces of Angband back to their stinking pits. Even Turgon had sent forces from Gondolin to aid them and the battle had been theirs. But then something had gone wrong.

 

He watched in his mind's eyes as multiple allies were killed in the sweeping rage of Morgoth's evil. He stopped and wavered as he remembered watching the fall of Fingon, who had been slain by Gothmog in a blaze of dark flame. Distantly, he felt himself gently pulled along until the blood and ash filled plains of northern Beleriand disappeared and a great city surrounded by mountains filled his vision. He looked around as tears rolled down his face and took in the scenery that nearly overwhelmed his senses from all that had bombarded them. He looked back up at the smiling Elf who had taken him under his wing. "Where are we?"

 

"Gondolin, friend. A safe place to grieve and heal," the stranger replied proudly before looking out.

 

Gondolin. Legolas stared at the city and wondered if he would ever find healing after losing the ones he loved. He looked back up at the Elf and blinked as his face was tenderly wiped of tears for the moment. "Who are you?" he asked thickly, touched at the tenderness shown to him even though the other Elf looked as bedraggled from the battle as he.

 

"I am Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower. I am one of the Generals of Gondolin under Turgon," the Elf named Glorfindel replied and Legolas noted the gold plated armor and ragged cloak. He remembered the Elf now in their strategy meetings before the last battle.

 

"I am Legolas Thranduilion. I thank you for letting me join you," Legolas whispered hoarsely as fresh tears rolled down his face. He didn't think he would ever stop crying as Glorfindel silently led him towards the mysterious city of Gondolin.

 

*~~**~~*

 

{Summer, First Age, year 587}

 

Legolas ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten out the tangles that the final battle had caused. Even with his helmet, his flaxen hair had seen fit to become snarled from everything that he had done. He grimaced at his gaunt reflection, but he needed to fix himself up since he had been summoned to meet with the other leaders of their host to celebrate their final victory against Morgoth.

 

It had been over a century since he had lost Fingon at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, as it was being referred to. Since then, he had survived the sacking of the beautiful city of Gondolin, where he had found some measure of peace and companionship in Glorfindel's arms. He had then taken young Eärendil along with Tuor and Idril to the Mouths of Sirion as a final promise to Glorfindel as the Elf had guarded their retreat. They had built a small village alongside Cirdan's people.

 

It had been peaceful until, to his shock and dismay, Maedhros and Maglor had attacked to try and take the Silmaril that been in Elwing's care. He had managed to escape with Elrond and Elros, but their escape didn't last as they were caught by the two sons of Fëanor. It was a very passionate, tear filled reunion with his other lover, whom he'd thought dead as well as Fingon on the fields of Beleriand. But he had made a promise to protect Elrond and Elros, so he had smuggled them out to the Havens to stay with Ereinion Gil-galad and Cirdan. He had become close to Ereinion, the only son of his beloved Fingon, so he knew that the twins would be well cared for.

 

After that, he had wandered, unable to find Maedhros again for the elder Elf had disappeared into the countryside after their failed attempt at retrieving the Silmaril. When Eärendil returned though to Middle Earth with the full might of the Valar and the Elves of Aman to defeat Morgoth, he had joined immediately, seeking revenge for his losses. He had met up with his father and grandfather finally and fought by their sides, to the joy of their own people, who had longed feared his death.

 

Finally, the battles had finished. Over forty years of tumultuous destruction finally paid off when they captured Morgoth and defeated soundly any of the troops that had served him. Now, after the dead had been buried, they celebrated their victory, though for Legolas, the victory came with too high a price.

 

He felt heavy and tired, his heart broken so much from all the loss, but he pulled himself together enough to make himself presentable. He stepped out finally and headed for the large area where the feast was occurring, the golden Maiar who had led the troops shining at the head table alongside Ereinion and the other leaders.

 

But as he was coming around the tents, he stopped as he caught movement near the tent that the rescued Silmarils were. Alarmed, he stalked over and followed the two figures as they left, heading for the cliffs that were nearby. Once they were clear from the camp, they all broke into a run, moving far swifter than any Man could. Finally, Legolas saw a flash of red and his heart seized in shock and dismay. "Maedhros! Stop!" he cried and came to a halt as the closest of the figures stopped abruptly.

 

Turning, Maedhros faced him, his face haunted and cracked with grief and, to Legolas despair, insanity. "Legolas? Is that you, seron vell?" was whispered over the wind as the other figure, Maglor, came over as well. (beloved)

 

"What are you doing?" Legolas replied as his voice cracked with his anguish. "Stop this madness! Return the Silmarils and let this oath go!" he begged as he moved forward.

 

"We cannot. We are bound, foolishly, to our father's will. Ai, but we do not deserve to live for all we have done," Maglor said as Maedhros shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

Legolas saw then that their hands were smoking and the scent of flesh burning drifted on the wind to him and he cried out in alarm, "You are burning!"

 

"Aye, the Silmarils reject us. But we cannot let any others have these," Maglor agreed before shaking his head and sobbing. "Such blood on my hands!" he cried suddenly and ran for the cliff. He threw his Silmaril into the ocean, then ran from them, his voice rising in song as he let his despair float out onto the wind.

 

Facing Maedhros, Legolas trembled as he reached for his lover. "Please, Maedhros...do not leave me," he whispered brokenly.

 

Shaking his head as he sobbed, Maedhros hunched his shoulders and turned from him. "I died long ago, seron vell. Farewell," he responded before running towards a steaming crack in the earth. There, he fell in, his screams of agony cutting off abruptly as he met his end at the bottom of the chasm.

 

Falling to his knees, Legolas trembled as he clutched the earth in his shaking hands. Finally, his head fell back and he screamed his anguish to the air as he lost the only other one who mattered to him. He fell to his side, sobbing as he let his grief pour out until he could no longer feel. Standing, he returned to the camp and tried to move on. He didn't know if he could, but he was a survivor. He would find a way.

 

~Fin

 


End file.
